Daughter of Mother Nature and the Titan Sun
by MaxRide05
Summary: AU plot of The Love of an Olympian. Series of short tales depicting Luna and Apollo's relationship.
1. Unexpected

**AU fic branching off from 'The Love of an Olympian'. You'll see how it's AU from that (aside from this bein a multi-chap and Olympian bein a one-shot) in a moment.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or HP - this stands for all chapters of this fic.**

**Daughter of Mother Nature and the Titan Sun**

He really didn't know why he was doing this.

Honestly, sneaking around Aphrodite's palace on Mt Olympus, five days before the winter solstice, at nine o'clock at night _had not_ been on his list of things to do today - or tonight, whatever.

But then what the Hades was he doing there?

(He was sure it was his imagination - which was _very_ overactive - but the air had gone colder when he'd thought that… He decided to shrug it off. No way could his uncle touch him here.)

As he turned a dimly lit corner the sound of music - that of a flute, wooden perhaps judging by the richness of the sound - reached his ears. Such sweet music that his mouth actually watered because of it. Swallowing, he strode towards the source; a pair of closed wooden doors with light flooding out from the gap beneath them onto the tile floor of the corridor. He could barely make out doves engraved upon each door.

He rolled his eyes.

How classy.

He stopped and crossed the corridor to hide himself in the shadows, leaning back against the cold, stone walls with the wooden doors to his right. He shifted his feet to find a better stance as he listened harder, catching his breath when he heard the distant sound of feminine - definitely feminine - sobbing.

He didn't know how long he stood there before the quiet sobbing stopped and a female voice said, "Stop. That's enough, you may leave me now. I shall thank your mother for her recommendation; you are just as good as one of Apollo's children." _Damn you, Aphrodite… _He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes.

He would have burst in the room then and there if he himself hadn't been inclined to believe the words of the Love Goddess. However grudgingly…

"Your words are humbling, my lady." A lilting female voice put in before continuing in a softer, quieter tone, "But surely you can not compare me, a daughter of the Goddess of Harvest and Nature, to a child of-of… Well, to one of _his_ children."

He blinked slowly as he tried to take in the demigod's tone; she'd sounded embarrassed.

He heard Aphrodite laugh lightly, "Your bashfulness bears you well, young one." Then there was a pause in which he imagined the Goddess of Love looking at Demeter's half-mortal daughter with almost calculating eyes, "You need not worry about the one who holds your heart in his hands - clueless as he is. I shall favour you greatly for what you have done this night."

Right, so that had to be the most intelligent - yet most elusive - speech he'd ever heard the flighty Goddess of Love utter.

Ever.

Not that he made it his duty to stay in her company.

Before he could think on it too much he heard one of the doors creak open slowly as soft light flooded the corridor. His breath hitched as he pressed himself further into the shadows that should have dispersed from his presence.

Lucky for him the young woman who stepped out from the room didn't notice him, even as she turned slightly to close the door softly behind her. He caught the barest flicker of long blonde hair and pale skin before the door shut noiselessly and they were both covered by shadows.

He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding when he sensed more than heard the daughter of Demeter depart, barely hearing a soft _pop _before the _extremely_ dim light of the scattered torches went out leaving him in complete and utter darkness.

"Hades," He cursed softly - ignoring the growing unnatural chill that accompanied the loaded word - as he realised that Aphrodite, who had installed those emotion sensitive lights that Hermes was always nattering on about, had fallen asleep. Thus extinguished the lights and leaving him in darkness. (There weren't even any windows near for Zeus' sake he scowled, ignoring the rumbling thunder that had sounded at the thought.)

Ah well, he thought as he sauntered down the corridor somewhat blindly, in search for the nearest exit, that nymph, Amarilis, would have trouble finding him here.


	2. A Closer Look

The gradual sound of soft, light music floated to his ears as he sat on his throne alongside the other Olympians three days prior to the Winter solstice.

When a blonde demigod, who sat cross-legged by the other half-mortal musicians (who were mostly his children), put a flute to her lips Apollo sat up a little straighter, his interest tweaked.

_Such sweet music…_

Biting his lip, he dropped his eyes from where he'd been staring unseeing out of a window, to stare at the blonde young woman curiously; she wasn't one of his children, was she?

He drank in the sight of her lithe form - that he could see clearly despite the pool of the grey fabric of her robes - and her slender, curved face.

He took in her pale, flawless skin - he couldn't recall a mortal woman with pale skin that was that unblemished…

He stared at her thick, dirty-blonde locks - he'd never recently taken to a form that had hair of that tone, that texture...

His heart faltered at her wide silver grey eyes (such an extraordinary colour), her straight nose, her thin, upturned, pale pink lips (he ran his tongue over his own) and the curve of her neck as it met her shoulder…

No, definitely not one of his children, the question was, whose?

A second passed and the maiden, perhaps having sensed his gaze, locked eyes with his. He felt his lips curve into a half-smile, and he was sure she would have returned it had she not been playing her flute. He felt only slightly dismayed when, seconds later, she dropped her eyes and dipped her head.

He frowned but before he could even begin to think about the maiden's curious actions he felt something slither up his legs. He jolted in his throne but saw nothing out of the ordinary when he looked down at his legs. He scowled at his paranoia but just as he was about to lean back in his throne he felt something slithering on the back of his neck and around his ankles. He shrugged his shoulders and twisted his neck to stop whatever it was but before he could continue further the thing slid around his face, across his mouth almost like a gag.

When he tried to rise to his feet he found that his ankles were tied together by what felt like a thin rope and he fell unto his hands and knees in front of his throne. The other Olympians turned to him curiously but he paid them no mind as he'd reached up to rip out his gag and the smoothness of vines met his fingers.

Now who did he know who had a speciality for conjuring up vines?

He ripped out his bonds, glaring fiercely at an amused, smirking Dionysius who sat far to his right, "_You.._."

"Me?" Dionysius chuckled, "_Please_! I wouldn't have prolonged the suspense like that. If that had been me," He broke off with another sinister chuckle, "You would have been encased in vines in the blink of an eye."

But Apollo had already turned to stare at the next possible culprit, who was giving him a glare that rivalled that of the lord of the Underworld's himself.

"Demeter," He grimaced and stood in a shaky movement, the look in the Goddess' blazing green eyes making him feel colder than he'd ever felt before he'd taken on the role of a sun god.

This coming from the Goddess who had captured the wild, fiery Titan Helios' heart long ago, came the flickering thought to the mind of Apollo. Though how that was actually relevant he did not know.

He didn't know just how he understood the Goddess of Harvest's threat but he knew the message in her narrowed eyes to be: _**stay away from my daughter. Or else.**_

He winced and sat back down in his throne, turning his head from Demeter's glare and towards the demigods, all off whom hadn't stopped playing all through the incident courtesy of the Mist. They weren't even looking in his direction. Well, all except one.

The eyes of Demeter's daughter hadn't left him as he'd sat in his throne and even now when he stared back at her, her gaze never faltered from his, nor did the sound of her flute cease…

Why exactly did he get the feeling the daughter of Demeter was much more than she seemed?

**A/N: I've added a few thing 2 this chap along with the nxt chap.**


	3. Love? Yeah Right

It was the eve before the winter solstice and Artemis had just watched around twenty different performances before her brother Apollo was due to start his performance alongside Luna, daughter of Demeter.

"Save the best till last," he'd said with a grin after he'd agreed to play on the eve before the solstice. Artemis had no doubt that their performance would be as good as Apollo kept making it out to be.

She smiled when Luna and Apollo stepped out of the thinning crowd to the cleared space in front of the seated Olympians. Her smile grew wider when Luna curtseyed to each of the seated Olympians, and it turned a smirk when Apollo gave a half-hearted wave, his eyes on the daughter of Demeter that stood beside him.

She heard Demeter curse softly before she was silenced by Zeus who nodded at the two in front of them, who sat cross-legged upon cushions, to begin.

The moment Luna played the first note on her flute Artemis was once again captivated - something that was rare when it was not the children of her little brother performing a musical piece. Every so often Apollo would strum a few notes on his lyre, and the resulting effect was… just amazing. They complimented each other well…

Something that her brother must have thought for himself if the way his eyes kept flickering over towards the blonde young woman beside him was any hint.

Artemis narrowed her eyes at the two; she'd never seen her brother like this before with demigods. Nymphs, yes, but female demigods…

Artemis started to really feel curious when she saw how Apollo's eyes lingered upon Luna. Just what exactly was wrong with him?

He kept staring at the demigod like… Oh, she didn't even know what.

The sound of fierce whispering met her ears and she turned in her throne to see Demeter turned towards Aphrodite, glaring at the Love Goddess angrily. Alright, perhaps simply 'angrily' was an understatement but…

She turned back to the duo in front of them. Was that what this was? Aphrodite up to her old tricks?

She felt anger surge inside her - how could she mess with her brother's emotions like this? Was that her idea of entertainment? If so she was in for a lot of pain when Artemis got her hands on her.

"I did nothing!" The indignant screech made her turn her attention back to the two Goddesses and she watched Aphrodite stand from her throne in a huff and hold up her hands.

"Fine! You want proof?"

Then the Goddess of Love fixed her eyes on Luna and Apollo, the latter of which having not even looked up from where he rested his head on his clenched fist, strumming his lyre every so often as he stared at the blonde demigod with an expression Artemis couldn't decipher.

Luna, however, had glanced up and was now staring at Aphrodite curiously.

"I wash my hands of this."

The words of the honey brunette (it's possible) haired Goddess of Vomit-inducing Emotion made Artemis' stomach churn as she clenched her fists. She remembered the last time Aphrodite had said those words (those _exact_ words, damn it) while looking at a young demigod couple. The young boy - who had almost been old enough to be called a man - had blinked his eyes as if waking from a trance with a frown gracing his lips. The young girl, meanwhile, had been heartbroken with sobs having erupted from her chest as her 'love' took one confused look at her, shook his head, then walked away.

That girl now existed as one of her hunters - and she was just as fierce and powerful as the rest, if not more due to her anger and vengefulness (there was a reason she didn't take her hunters to visit Camp Half-Blood (or even the main palace of Olympus) often.

So imagine Artemis' surprise when Apollo's eyes never left Luna, even as their performance drew to a close. She raised an eyebrow and turned to see Aphrodite, her eyes on Luna also, tilting her head and giving the smiling demigod a raised eyebrow and a look as if to say, _ya see?_

Then she saw Luna's smile widen as a flush crept up her cheeks while she nodded at a beaming Aphrodite.

She watched Apollo lean over towards Luna and whisper something in her ear, his hand inching forward to rest over hers. 

_Smooth Apollo_, Artemis thought, rolling her eyes. Then she saw Luna turn her head to whisper something back to the Sun God, a cautious smile flickering across her face.

Demeter did not look happy, Artemis noted wryly.

But honestly, she thought with a growing smile of her own, she could care less because _surely_ this meant that Apollo would stop flirting with and seducing her hunters?


	4. Blush

**A/N: This drabble could also be seen as 'The Love of an Olympian' compliant. **

Luna never expected something like this to happen when she visited Olympus again just before the winter solstice.

Apollo, God of the sun, the Arts, Medicine, and Poetry, an Immortal she'd always admired from when she heard tales of Ancient Greece at a young age, was staring at her.

His gaze seemed to burn her but, somehow, she kept a blush from flooding her cheeks as she focused intently on her sisters.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shift forwards. Her eyes snapped towards her stately form and they widened in shock.

Apollo, the only Immortal who had ever caused her to blush simply at the mere thought of him, was real, dazzlingly handsome, and walking straight towards her.


	5. Meeting Retribution

**There are quite a few ways this chapter could have gone but I just decided on the most realistic, albeit boring, one. Enjoy :D**

**This one diverges from 'Daughter of the Titan Sol'.**

**On another fairly important note, while most of the chaps so far have been somewhat chronological that will change.**

Luna leaned against the wall near the tall, arched, glass window as time resumed its natural pace.

She could feel the gazes of several upon her, but her eyes sought out one and one alone.

Apollo was looking at her with a fairly confusing expression upon his handsome, youthful face and in his deep blue eyes. She looked back at him, taking in the sight of his arched golden eyebrows, slightly hidden by his tussled sandy blonde locks, straight nose, shapely face, lightly tanned, flawless complexion, and oh-so-soft, slightly parted full lips.

She felt a shiver run through her at the memory of his burning hands cupping her face gently and his lips pressed against hers. She'd felt as if a blast of hot air had washed over her when his lips had first touched hers. She was sure that she'd blushed to the very roots of her hair when they'd parted.

Apollo was the one to break eye contact and she swallowed at the rising lump in her throat as she looked away reluctantly. The sound of soft whispers occupied her mind and she took a single step forward before stopping when another rippling of air caught her eye.

But this time it wasn't beside her…

Luna stood in shock as the very air on her skin thrummed and rippled, increasing in temperature before the air grew still. (As ever since she could remember she'd never been affected by natural decreases in temperature, she then had no idea if the air had gone back to its original temperature.)

But what followed that was enough to make Luna seriously fear for her life.

It wasn't the actual attire itself; it was who she was wearing it in front of.

_Oh, what have you done? _She thought with a growing sense of dread as she looked down at the armour that had replaced her toga. She was now clad in a fitting breastplate that was strapped over a tunic made of very light chainmail, an armoured pleated skirt that stopped below her knees, and on her back she felt two straps of leather, that were crossed to make a X, that could be used to carry weapons. (Quite similar to the sort of carrying straps that wizards had used to carry their broomsticks during the war, at times when they would have needed their hands to be free, she noted sadly.) Dark leather boots that were fairly light and similar to hunting boots replaced her sandals.

Luna was now wearing armour similar to those that the Titans wore in ancient times. In front of the Olympians.

_Just as good as a claiming,_ she thought wryly.

She shifted upon her feet slightly and watched the way the armour reflected the sun's light. The breastplate and skirt fluctuated between warm shades of red, orange, and yellow as she moved while the chainmail tunic gleamed a silvery-grey. Just like _his_ eyes. Or her own, if she wanted to acknowledge the mask that hid her true self.

Luna raised her hands, palms up and felt a familiar warmth spark across the tips of her fingers before a flicker of light and heat spread across her hands and they glowed.

As if by some unknown instinct Luna concentrated on her glowing hands then flicked her wrists upwards, like someone would before they served in volleyball.

Particles of light and heat rose in the air before lengthening into a long, thin shape, before the shape dropped from the cloud and into her hands. Luna's hands curled and then tightened around the weapon she held; a three-foot long spear that glowed softly. The shaft was still warm as Luna lifted the neck towards her face, trying to define the metal of the red-hot pointed blade.

Luna gave the weapon an experiment twirl in her hands and she smiled when she thought of how right this weapon was for her. Sword fighting and archery had never been her strong points, though she could wield a dagger if need called for it.

And this way she didn't have to rely on Hecate's gift; her wand. Hecate's blessing was a dangerous one, and now that Luna knew of the Titaness' part regarding the fading of her father, Helios, she was reluctant to use it. If ever Hecate saw fit to reclaim her blessing, not only would Luna be stripped of her magic but she could also lose her life, as Hecate's blessing had been one given at her birth Luna's magic was entwined with her soul. When she died her magic died with her, if it was taken from her she would die a death that was almost unheard of.

And yet she wasn't scared…

She knew, in her heart, that the only reason Hecate would reclaim her blessing would be if Luna angered her. And as Luna wasn't planning on 'getting revenge' any time soon her life was safe. For now.

Luna looked up and met the eyes of Demeter, her mother. The Goddess of Harvest was staring open-mouthed and there was a furrow between her dark eyebrows before she smoothed out her astonished expression after locking eyes with her daughter.

Demeter blinked and then her lips stretched into what was meant to be a comforting smile. Luna smiled back as she stepped towards the Olympians. Curtseying smoothly she excused herself.

Her eyes lingered upon Apollo but she turned away before she could think upon him anymore.

She avoided the eyes of Hecate and stepped towards the crowd that stood before an exit. She wondered if her expression - try as she might to keep it indifferent - spoke truth of her turmoil, and if perhaps her expression was more fierce than even a child of Ares' as no half-mortal seemed able to take their eyes off the floor, or the walls, or even the other Gods, and be able to look her way for more than a moment.

The demigods parted hastily when she walked towards them as the satyrs and nymphs looked on.

The other Gods stared and whispered to one another when she reached them, but she ignored them and walked towards the doorway only to have her path blocked.

Nemesis, Goddess of Revenge stood before her, blood-red lips curled into a cold smirk and brooding eyes boring into her own.

The Goddess swept a curl of her rust-brown hair out of her paper-white face with an equally white bony finger, as she continued to stare at Luna, before she said, "The scales are not tipped in your favour." Her voice was quiet but like poison. The very sound of her voice would have made Luna turn to strike down the wrongdoer, whose sorceress child was the cause of her most aching woes, if she had been anyone other than a child of two Immortals.

"I know." She said in a voice that betrayed no emotion.

Nemesis narrowed her eyes before her smirk grew more chilling, "That could all change. All you have to do is-"

"No." Interrupting a goddess would have been an instant death wish for any who weren't Immortal themselves. Yet Nemesis simply pursed her lips together, glaring slightly before continuing, "It does not have to be this way. She could get what she deserves. There could be justice."

Others would think that Nemesis was referring to Hecate but Luna knew otherwise. The Goddess of Revenge was the only Immortal who could see of all the wrongdoings that had been committed against Luna as it was in the Goddess' nature.

Luna shook her head; the timing was all wrong. If she made her move now it wouldn't end well.

"It isn't to be. Not yet… A few more years perhaps…" She saw Nemesis bite back a scowl, obviously displeased with her decision, before her dark expression cleared as she saw reason.

"Very well." Nemesis said icily, nodding curtly before disappearing into the crowd.


	6. All Knowing, All Seeing, All Hearing

"Did you know?"

Three simple words that shouldn't have been so hard to utter - yet they were.

Chiron bowed his head for a moment before he raised it; staring back at Luna with eyes brimming with so many emotions the two brown orbs were quite unreadable to the usually perceptive young woman.

His voice sounded almost hesitant as he said, "I suspected… something of the sort."

They held the other's gaze in the silence that followed before Luna spoke softly, "I was too different, wasn't I." Hardly said like a question but just the same…

"No…No, Luna, not _too _different. You just weren't the same…"

She didn't even have to crane her neck to look him in the eyes she was that tall. Luna was sure height wasn't something that even Hecate could conceal, it was right up there with physical age – it just wasn't logically possible to hide for any long period of time…

Clearing her sudden ponderings from her mind Luna could see this was becoming quite a difficult topic for Chiron so she nodded, about to say her goodbyes when he said, "Walk with me," little knowing that this was part of his observations. For he watched her. He saw the sadness in her eyes thinly, carelessly, veiled behind the familiar, trademark vagueness that was one of the things that (had) contradicted her identity as a Demigod. And buried deep behind the sadness there was anger.

She was dressed in the armour of their forefathers, which he would recognise anywhere. And beneath her boots the bowing strands of emerald grass were turning yellow and withering.

His mind spun with implications of such a feat. Glancing back upon the grounds of Olympus he saw that the places upon the grass where Luna had stepped were withering, but, when seconds passed, they did eventually become emerald and fresher than ever before. Showing no outward sign of his pondering, save his sharp, flickering eyes, he wondered how one could be so powerful as to affect the nature upon Olympus itself. Such a feat was easy enough for Demeter, the girl's biological mother, but none of the Immortal's children that he knew, save perhaps – at a stretch – Persephone, could be able to do such a thing.

Turning his eyes back to Luna he took in her easy, graceful stride, her raised head, and her curious eyes. "I've never been to this part of the gardens before."

He simply surveyed her as she looked all around her before her next statement made his steps falter. "At least not while awake."

"What did you say?" Such a curious thing for a child of two powerful Immortals to say.

She turned eerily pale, calm eyes towards him as they stopped. Calm eyes that failed to mask the growing fear that was only noticeable to him because of how long he'd known Luna, and how long he'd lived, encountering many mortals, Immortals, and variations thereupon.

"I… I don't know." She paused before whispering in a very vague tone, "I sometimes feel as if I'm not in my right mind."

Then she closed her eyes briefly as if to calm herself before they opened slowly. "Sometimes I'm never really asleep – I just feel as if… as if I'm in two _different _places at once. It's as if my very being is…" She faltered, raising a hand to her temple as her blank expression flickered with pain. He would have missed it had his sharp, yet kind eyes not been trained on her usually serene face. Something akin to the cold feeling of dread had flooded through him when he'd seen not only her face twinge in discomfort, but also her lightening eyes glow gold before changing back to a rapidly darkening silvery colour.

He cautiously trotted closer to where she was leaning against the trunk of a thick tree; stopping at a respectable distance that he hoped still bought her a sense of comfort. "My dear, are you alright?" The tree's once green leaves fluttered to the grass, yellow and auburn in their shades of colour.

"I just have one question, Chiron." Her questioning eyes never wavered from his as she languidly lowered her hand. "You never knew Helios was my father? You never knew I was a child of the Goddess of Agriculture and The Titan of the Sun and daytime and brightness? The all knowing, the all seeing, the all hearing, the guardian of Oaths… _Sol Invictus_…" Luna brushed her fingertips against her forehead as if to ease pain and Chiron breathed steadily through his nose.

"No. Not until I'd heard." How very curious – if she'd called her biological Greek father by his Roman counter-part's name then he had to wonder just _who _had blessed the child Luna. Had the two Titanesses been in Greek or Roman form? It certainly wasn't unheard of; a Demigod child (or descendant) of a Greek Immortal being blessed by a Roman Immortal (or vice versa)… But the results of such incidents were… not good. Something always went wrong – nothing _too_ disastrous but still…

Luna closed her eyes once again. Her belated answer to his rather foolish question was certainly not sarcastic as any others might have been. That in itself once again informed Chiron of how different Luna was, as well as the severity of the situation. "No."

Luna sighed, watching the lingering mist that had resulted from her breath in the cool air with a light frown. She could tell him - he would understand... Alright, maybe not, but he would _listen_. Chiron was her confidant. (Though there were things she had never shared with him, things she'd never shared with anyone (except Xenophilus) - not even Harry.) Her lips turned up at the edges in a shadow of her usual warm, comforting smile. Luna had often been confided in by those closest to her and she'd never been joking when she'd told them she'd take their secrets to the grave – or to be more accurate, the Underworld.

And so, once again she would talk and he would listen. The immortal Centaur was The Confidant's confidant.

And so she told him of how she experienced the occasional dizzy spell and/or throbbing headaches – ails that had increased both in frequency and intensity since she had come to Olympus after graduating Hogwarts, after the Second Wizarding War.

As Luna walked away Chiron thought fondly, _there goes another brave soul, surviving against the odds._ Namely, against the untimely deaths of both her non-Immortal Guardians.

She was like no one he'd ever encountered, and, truth be told, that both intrigued and worried him. Chiron had never assumed to be all knowing nor was he (or anyone he knew) anything of the sort but not knowing what was occurring to one of the kindest souls he'd ever met was not good. A twice-blessed child of two Immortals – one, an Olympian and the other, a Titan. A rarity indeed…

His musings were broken by an unexpected visitor.

"Lady Persephone." He leaned forward bending at the waist in a centaur's version of a bow, one foreleg slightly in front of the other.

"Master Chiron." The Queen of the Underworld – who Chiron would forever remember as a youthful maiden before her abduction by Hades – curtseyed as warmth flared up in his straightening chest.

"Now, I've told you time and time again, there is no need to call me 'Master'."

Persephone smiled, black hair swaying in the light cool breeze that winter so often brought. "I know. If you've told me _once_ you've told me a hundred times." A smooth laugh escaped her parted lips, "That still doesn't stop you from looking so pleased, does it?"

They shared a laugh.

"Indeed." Chiron said, "To what do I owe this pleasure, my lady?"

The smile fell from Persephone's pale lips. "I saw you with Luna."

"Ah."

"I heard what she said – about her headaches. If you think you know what is happening to her…"

Seeing the worry in his gaze Persephone's breath caught in her throat. "Tell me, Chiron."

Chiron averted his eyes from hers – certainly not a difficult feat. Persephone's voice softened with anxiety, "_Please. _Do you not know how much there is at stake? Not just for my sake but for my mother. And Apollo too, you must have seen how taken he is with her... I don't think I need to remind you what happened the last time one of Apollo's beloved conquests was dealt a mortal blow."

Of course he didn't need to be reminded, he remembered well how sickness plagued the lands, the sun providing little satisfying warmth to anything its light did or did not touch. Needless to say Apollo had been grief-stricken, the woman he mourned being one of the few to hold his fleeting affections. It had always been a joke among the Olympians and various minor Gods and Goddesses that Apollo fell in love at least once every five hundred years – and that was without Aphrodite and Eros' 'help'.

"Tell me." Persephone insisted, her once gentle tone dissolving into irritation. "She is my sister, Chiron, please."

"She must be reaching the height of her powers, and Hecate's enchantments are starting to weaken." Chiron murmured, eyes finally locking with Persephone's. "And I fear that the disseverment of Hecate's enchantments may break her."

**A/N: Alright this chap just came to me and I think it leads into the nxt one quite nicely. Soon I'll request prompts from you, my dear readers, and I'll see about turning them into chaps if I can adapt them to fit into this universe. It won't hurt to send any prompts/suggestions in now tho.**

**If you are at all curious as to where I get my info from here's the link: http :/ camphalfblood. wikia. com/ wiki /Helios**

**Or if you're not bothered to copy and paste simply go to the Percy Jackson wiki and type Helios in the search engine.**

**Until nxt time :) **


	7. Facing the Unknown

**As with the next chap this is The Love of an Olympian compliant with a few changes.**

Luna can't explain what she felt when she nearly crashed into Apollo the day after the winter solstice. (_Maybe _due to the fact that he was shirtless and she'd been able to see beads of sweat trace their way down his lightly flushed face and chiselled chest.) She'd only been taking a walk - to clear her head - and he'd just _appeared_.

But she knows that she felt relieved when he smiled at her and flirted suggestively. (She'd thought such things would never occur again after they'd found out who her father was the afternoon before.)

She really couldn't explain what she felt when he called her beautiful and kissed her. She'd felt so many emotions that she felt as if she'd explode from bursting at the seams. Still, that hadn't stopped her from wrapping her arms around his neck, as he pulled her even closer, and twirling his curls around her slender fingers.

Then they finally parted from the other's lips and she keenly observed the transparent look that crossed Apollo's handsome features before he breathed somewhat hesitantly, "We're wanted."

"You're telepathic." There was only one possible answer as to who would be summoning them at a time like this.

Though it wasn't a question Apollo nodded while he took her hand in his gently as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Luna flushed at the thought and let him lead her towards the main palace of Olympus through the thick expanse of tall trees.

They stopped occasionally as Apollo helped her over fairly wide, fallen tree branches that seldom dotted the otherwise dazzling forest floor of emerald, as Luna grabbed and raised the fabric of her ankle-length chiton so as to not trip over it, trying not to flush at the way Apollo's lingering gaze swept over her whenever she did so.

**This is a prelude to the next chapter which should be up soon. **


	8. Knowing Malevolence

**Not rlly The Love of an Olympian compliant. FYI speech that is in bold and italics is said in another language. Plz forgive me for any spelling or punctuation mistakes; my keyboard is messed up.  
**

When Zeus had lifted his hand towards her Luna felt as if something was unravelling with a _crackle_ and a _snap!_ within her.

She could hear her heart pounding in her head.

_ThumpThumpThump…_

There were flashes and streaks across her vision, and lights dancing around her, lingering - waiting for her eyes to lock upon them before streaming out of her line of vision tauntingly...

_A bit like Wrackspurts…_ The thought flitted through her overwrought mind as fast as an arrow drawn from the bows of the Twin Archers themselves.

_-ump…Thump…_

Luna felt a flush of heat flood from her stomach to her pallid skin, her neck, her face. She felt quite lightheaded and swayed slightly on her feet, pain making itself known behind her eyes.

Her head felt warm.

She dimly wondered if Mr D – _Dionysus_, had experienced anything like this when he'd accepted the offer of immortality. She had to remember to ask him when all this was over. Oh, how she couldn't wait for that moment...

Then her knees gave way and Luna crumpled to the cold floor, body stiffening, and twitching at random intervals for at least ten seconds. She could make no sense of what was happening around her and could only see the constellations in the arched ceiling above her. But she felt the temperature jolt with odd crackling intervals – almost like lightning… Before that, however, she dimly recalled having heard a cry of pained outrage and perhaps the sounds of a violent struggle. (She definitely heard an '_oof_' as if someone had been elbowed on the stomach, and she heard two whispers belonging to the voices of male gods; _"Calm... down!" "Release. Me!_")

And her head got warmer…

Then a rush of images and sounds – _memories?_ – ran through her mind, overlapping another, and so fast she was barely able to make decipher a single one before another rushed to take its place. They paralysed her, entrapping her in their depths…

_A tall woman with dark blonde hair peered at her as if from some height, lips sliding into a smile as pale orbs – like the moon – fixed upon her own…_

_Then a raven haired woman with the same pale orbs was frowning down at her, clad in a dark, billowing dress that contrasted with her pale skin. Her pale lips were moving, Latin words spilling from them and Luna barely made out the phrase, "**Be what I am not…**" before the image slipped away..._

_A man clad in a red tunic with golden eyes staring down at her, reddish hair looking almost ablaze in the light of the sun, as a different pale, dark haired woman with dark green eyes cradled her in her arms, smiling upon them both… _

And warmer still…

_Yet another dark haired woman and she seemed to be chanting over her, swaying hand causing ripples in the air above her blanket swathed self as the woman's heavy lidded eyes flashed. Luna easily picked out the phrase, "_Momento mori_**…" **__in the woman's words, which - although they now flitted through her mind - she'd only fully comprehend later…_

And yet even more warmer…

"You promised!_"_ _Two dark haired boys were facing each other as skeletons rose from the ground, shrouded in shadows. The taller, older boy with sea green eyes tried to apologise but the other wouldn't hear it…_

_A young Hispanic boy with dark curly hair and wide brown eyes screamed as the building in front of him went up in flames. His hands glowed like a fire's light had been cast upon them…_

Her fingers curled into tight fists as she tried to expel herself from those warped, ghostly tableaus. She'd tried to do so before during a particularly bad recurring nightmare she'd had in her childhood. But right now she wasn't a little girl, strange beyond belief to nearly all who met her, lying in a cool bed in a crooked home that reflected the love of those within.

Right now she was on Mount Olympus, changed from war, and her 'strange' _'loony'_ beliefs were real. And that very same crooked house didn't even exist anymore, except in her memories.

Her head felt like it was on fire. Her limbs were heavy; the air felt like it was made of slightly runny treacle, but even so Luna managed to raise herself so that she was kneeling. She was thoroughly tempted to feel her head to see if it wasn't actually on fire but that would have taken more energy than she had to spare. It was almost like a malevolent presence that heat. But she heard nothing from it; it was just there, taking up residence in her head.

Tremors shook her body as the other mysterious phantasmagoria within her mind continued, the sounds becoming indistinguishable in their continuous loop. Strangest thing was she could have sworn she saw Harry – slightly older and rougher looking than since she'd last seen him – in one of visions… She hoped he was safe.

Her large glazed eyes lit with a strange glow from within flickered around the throne room, glancing into the face of each Olympian. Her lips barely parted and she didn't realise that the mellifluous words, that she could barely distinguish over the noise in her head, were her own until she registered the changing expressions of the Immortals before her.

She had intoned the words of a language unknown or forgotten to most of the Olympians, save two. Those being the goddesses Demeter and Athena, both of whom stared at Luna in puzzlement and apprehension as they translated her words.

Her speech faltered when she laid eyes on one Olympian in particular. Luna felt shivers sweep over her skin like wind over a blaze as The Nightmare from her lost childhood chose that moment to worm its way out of the darkest depths of her mind, coursing straight through the malevolent presence and causing it to disperse along with the ever-increasing heat she had felt within her head. Luna would have almost preferred the heat to what she knew would come next.

Her already failing breath came in gasps as she heard the hiss, _"Kill the spare!" _before seeing a green light streak towards a tall, lean shadowed figure standing not far from a shorter one. Ice flowed through her veins in place of blood (or was it now truly Ichor?) as the light hit its target blasting the taller figure backwards. Bile rose in her throat as she watched and tried in vain to dispel the sight before her. With a soft _thump_ the body landed feet before where she observed silently, like a shade. The lean face of the figure, now vaguely recognisable as a boy's – almost a young man, was for the most part obscured by shadow. Then the vision faded and she returned to Olympus, retreating from her mind and the dispersing visions.

But she still knew who that boy was. It was hard for her not to seeing as she'd seen a fourteen year old Harry crying over his body when they'd materialised on Hogwarts' grounds, Twiwizard cup discarded to the side.

Luna rubbed her throat, vainly trying to dispel the tightness that had settled there as her eyes prickled with unshed tears, his shadowed face lingering in her mind. His grey eyes (such as one of the pairs of eyes staring at her now) never to see the light of day again.

Despair overcame her.

Her back arched as she pressed her hands into her face, muttering, "I'm sorry! I didn't know… If I-I had I would have gone to the graveyard and vanquished Riddle myself."

Foolish thought; she'd barely been able to take on a Hogwarts alumni with her goddess (or Titaness?) given magic in her third year, let alone the most feared wizard of his generation, Thomas Marvalo Riddle. She had never been able to avenge _his _death and she'd seen it all along.

A muscle in her neck pulsed and her head jerked to the side. Luna pressed her shaking hands to her skull, rocking back and forth on her knees. She heard a deep grunt, the brief sound of another struggle and a venomous growl of a hiss, "_To Hades with you_," as hurried footsteps walked towards her. Her light-headedness threatened to return at the sound of the _ohsofamiliar_ voice as her pulse continued to race, faster than before, and the most curious fluttery sensation took hold of her stomach.

"Apollo!" A sharp voice rang out making her recoil at the resulting throb in her head. Zeus.

How surprising.

"You know not to disturb the process… Do you wish for a repeat performance of what occurred just five minutes ago?" Those last words were said in a deceptively quiet tone by the lord of the skies.

"But…" And for the second – and hopefully last – time in her life Luna felt as if her heart was breaking. Apollo sounded like he was hurting. Badly. And simply because she was…

Darting her tongue out from her mouth she wet her lips. When she opened her mouth nothing but a raspy noise made itself known. The words were stuck in her dry throat. _I'll be fine soon. No need to worry about me._

Another pair of footsteps echoed through the hall; they were lighter but just as hurried as the first, just as determined. Luna could just about see sandal clad feet lingering in front of her. An opened bottle of water was set before her.

"T-th…" She reached out for the bottle and drank every last drop. "Thank you, mother." She breathed.

Then Luna lifted her head once more, drinking in the changed sight of her mother, sister, and Apollo before her. The latter was the only one fidgeting nervously as if he ached to be near her, to touch her. He was also the one to spring forward the second she showed signs of recovery.

He gently ran his fingers through her hair, over her arms, around her back and even over her legs. She would almost call his touch a caress if not for the look on his face. It wasn't exactly an intimate one.

Yet she was still sure he just wanted a reason to touch her. Not that she was complaining. A laugh bordering on hysterical rose in her throat. He pulled her into a tight embrace and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You really scared me." He murmured, his warm breath ghosting over her ear. Another shiver – but a nicer one this time – rippled through her.

"'m sorry. Was sort of your fault though. You just had to fall in love with me." Luna's lips twisted in a facsimile of a smile as she drew back from his arms.

His lips quirked into a sort of half smile, his thumb stroking her cheekbone with a feather light touch. That could be called a caress…"Sorta hard not to I'll have you know."

Luna was reminded of a castle cradled high in the mountainous north, sunny days and despondent emotions that contrasted with her surroundings. Black untameable hair seemed to mesh with vibrant long red as a couple – the new 'It' Couple – embraced intimately high above her in the empty Quidditch Stands. The grass of Spring, that was still nothing compared to the green of his eyes, rippled beneath her bare feet as Zephyrus weaved his way through the northern lands. (Why was it that it was this particular anemoi who was witness to her pain whenever she thought she was alone?)

Bringing herself back to the present, to Olympus, Luna stared into Apollo's eyes, now reluctant to believe that his words were true. "Right..."

Luna stood, briefly missing the warmth Apollo's closeness had brought her. But she couldn't dwell on that now. Absentmindedly, she fingered the golden curls cascading around her shoulders. Frowning slightly she closed her eyes and concentrated on the image she'd seen day after day for the past twenty three years whenever she'd looked into a reflective surface, changing her appearance back to that of Luna Lovegood. The transformation which left her skin tingling would certainly take some getting used to.

She opened her eyes and braced herself for the bestowing of her title by the king of gods. (He had so many titles Luna had to wonder how he kept track of them; she'd doubted she'd be able to.)

Zeus peered at her through narrow eyes before speaking, not in English but another language all together. The Ancient Greek flowed from his lips easily as he announced her title: the goddess of lost souls and serenity.

This was her new duty - nothing to do with her old life, the Wizarding World or its wars or its people.

And she welcomed it.

**Okay so, special thanks to all my readers if ur still readin and Glitter Poisoned My Blood who worked with me on Luna's official title (tho u probably don't remember cos it was so long ago ) and making me get this chapter out by reviewing one of my other fics, sayin 'it was cool' and to update this one. :D Feel free to do that if I ever take too long to update again, any of you still reading out there.**

**Also prompts would be nice for what you want to see nxt.**


	9. After Birth

**A/N: okay, firstly this had to be written on my iPad because I don't have Microsoft Word anymore, and on top of that my computer had to be rebooted (or something like that) and my account started from scratch, so all my documents are gone, and I mean everything. So anyone still reading will have to bear with me, because I'm doing this without any pre written documents. **

**Secondly, I'm sorry for the wait. Really, I am. And on that note, enjoy.**

It was a strange thing, really. He'd never meant for it to happen. Apollo wondered if Luna felt the same as he cradled his - well, _their_, he'd have to get used to that - son in his arms.

The babe gurgled, happily, he liked to think. But it was _strange_, holding such a tiny thing, _like this_. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done so.

He looked at the immortal beside him, lying amongst Grecian goose feather pillows charmed to retain their softness, to still have the ability to mould to the shape of a person's body, even after a thousand years, at least.

He forced himself to clear away all thoughts of Luna's body. He wasn't sure how she'd react if she knew he was thinking of her like that. And so soon after...

He stroked the downy gold hair on top of their son's head as he ducked his head down, breathing in the babe's scent. His little, puckered mouth was moving up and down slowly as he settled, his tiny nose twitching. He had yet to open his eyes - Apollo wondered what colour they'd be.

Probably nothing mortals had a word for. They could seem kaleidoscopic in certain lights, shifting combinations of green, gold and silver, for all he knew. But not ever-changing like the eyes of Aphrodite's demigod children, or even the goddess' own - of that Apollo was certain.

And he was glad. The less his son had to do with Aphrodite the better.

He marvelled at how his thoughts wondered. Lack of sleep would do that to a person, he knew, god or no. _Had this been what it was like for Luna while she'd been pregnant?_ He remembered how she'd gazed at nothing, looking nowhere during the lulls in their conversations. Or, more often than not, during their actual conversations.

[_They'd gone something like this_:

Apollo: How are you?

(_Silence_.)

Apollo: Luna?

(_She'd look through him, then away. Still nothing. Still silent._

_(Then an interminable length of time later_,

Luna: I'm fine. (_She would place a hand over her stomach, flat or rounded as it was._) And he's fine. (_Another pause, but shorter._) We're both fine.

Apollo: (_maybe a bit disappointed_) okay.

(_Then he'd either leave her, or start talking about whatever came to his mind. And sometimes she'd call him back, or interject her own musings - but mostly she just sat in silence_.)]

He knew though, that it'd been hard on her. It was her first child, after all. And her own mother figure had died when she was nine. Nothing Demeter did or said could make up for that. So she shut down. She must have been so scared.

Apollo had been more than a bit frustrated during the pregnancy. He wished he could have helped her better, wished she'd let him...

(_But what's done is done. There's no going back._)

So he'd turned to archery as an outlet for his frustrations. Not... that _other_ thing. He'd never strayed. And he never planned to. He wasn't his father - he was _adamant_ on keeping his vows, on making it work, _whatever_ anyone else said or did.

He looked at Luna, resting peacefully until he'd turned to her. She opened her eyes, silvery-grey and piercing him where he sat.

"Hello." Her voice was soft, probably raw from screaming. It had been a messy birthing, though he hadn't actually been allowed in the room for all his protesting.

No, he'd had to content himself with waiting outside as Luna's screams echoed through the palace.

Huddling the babe close to him, he shifted so that he lay beside Luna. He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. She smelled of sweat and blood and tears, but she looked clean.

"Hey," he whispered against her skin, holding out their son to pass to her. "Here."

She shook her head. "I like watching you hold him. It's nice."

Her words almost broke him. He swallowed back the lump in his throat, grit his teeth against the tears in his eyes.

"You haven't felt very nice during the pregnancy, have you?" He already knew the answer to that.

He supposed it was a common thing, affecting goddesses and mortal woman alike.

Even her.

Even serene, untouchable Luna. That still shocked him the most out of everything - not what had, or should have been done or said, but just the _fact_ that she could be as affected as any (and every) other pregnant woman. He wished he had the ability to correct (_to heal_) hormonal imbalance.

He wished he could curse it out of existence. And he wished he could stop wishing for impossible things so damn hard because they never came true.

_Well_, he thought, chancing a look at Luna, a smile playing on the edges of his lips as he met her eyes then looked down at the babe, _almost never_.

Even so, he could still remember Luna asking him if he still loved her, once when they were in his palace, reclining on the bed together. He'd said, _of course._

And thinking about her body earlier... The way she'd been during the pregnancy, if she'd known what he'd thought she would have _stared_ at him. Looking like she didn't believe he could still find her attractive, or even ever had, for that matter.

Just then their son opened his eyes. Apollo could feel Luna, looking down with him, her chest barely brushing his back.

He glanced at her. She was smiling. Her eyes met his, and he grinned.

Their son was looking up at them with round silvery-blue eyes.

"He has a bit of both of us in him." Apollo said, still smiling. He felt Luna's breath on his skin as she nuzzled the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

He felt her smile as she whispered, almost in wonder, "He does, doesn't he."


End file.
